


Half of Something Else

by ThatRavenclawBitch



Series: A Toxic Event [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-20
Updated: 2014-02-20
Packaged: 2018-01-13 04:39:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1213009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/pseuds/ThatRavenclawBitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of Sometime Around Midnight. </p>
<p>Title taken from the song "Half of Something Else" by the Airborne Toxic Event</p>
            </blockquote>





	Half of Something Else

Gold has barely made it half a block before he plops down on the sidewalk outside the Dark Star Pharmacy. His ankle is aching and his head is spinning from the whiskey. The alcohol has firmly caught up with him, and he doesn’t think he’s been this drunk since he was a teenager.

There’s no way he’s walking home tonight, and if he tried to drive he’d probably kill himself.

Despite the bent of his evening, he doesn’t have a death wish, so he takes a deep breath of muggy night air and sorts through his options.

He could trudge a little further up the street to his shop and spend the night on the twin bed in his back room. It’s not exactly an appealing option. He’s spent the night on that bed before, typically when he was working late and didn’t feel the need to drag himself home. It’s not like anyone is ever waiting for him there.

But there are other memories in that back room that will haunt him and keep him from sleep. Like the afternoon Belle surprised him at his shop wearing nothing but a trench coat. He’d hauled her into the back room faster than a man with a limp had any right to do. They’d made love on that stupid twin bed until well after dark. Then they’d lain there talking and dozing off in equal measure until dawn. 

He’d asked her to move in with him the next morning, and she’d said yes. He’d often given thought to asking her another important question. In fact, he still had the ring stashed away in the back room. He’d been unwilling to part with it, unwilling to even pull it out of its hiding place and face it.

The idea of going to sleep at the shop is getting less appealing by the second.

His other option is to lie here in the gutter until someone calls the sheriff’s department on him. Maybe then Graham would drag him down to the station and he could spend the night curled up next to Leroy in the drunk tank.

It speaks to the addled state of his mind that this doesn’t seem like a half bad option.

His third option is only a fantasy. He gets up out of the gutter, charges up to Belle’s apartment, whacks Nottingham in the face a few times with his cane, then pulls Belle into the world’s most passionate kiss until she’s breathless and begging for him, telling him she was a fool to ever think she could live without him and demanding he take her at once against her kitchen table, Nottingham’s unconscious form on the floor be damned.

Yeah, that’s not a real option.

Gold sighs and rubs at his eyes. He really is quite tired. When he’d slumped to the ground his cane had skittered away out of reach and it suddenly feels like a Herculean task to retrieve it. Maybe if he just slept it off here on the street he could be up and out of sight before dawn.

He’s eyeing the hard concrete around him and speculating the most comfortable way to position himself when he hears his name.

“Aiden? What are you doing?”

And there’s only one person in town that uses his given name, only one person in town whose very voice can turn his bones to jelly. The first time he heard that lilting Aussie accent caressing the syllables of his name, he’d thought it never sounded so right before. When Belle said his name, he felt like Aiden. Not Mr. Gold, the dealmaker everyone in town is so wary of, but just the bloke from Glasgow who likes tinkering with antiques and working with his hands.

He glances up at Belle and she’s a vision in the moonlight, the streetlight behind her casting a shimmering halo around her auburn curls. No one has ever looked lovelier than Belle does in this moment, with her hair tumbling down about her shoulders and her pale blue cardigan pulled tight around her chest. He can see a peek of her pajama shorts from under her sweater. They’re the white ones with the pattern of tiny pink roses that he used to like so much.

And then, because this is the night that just keeps getting worse, Gold ruins the image by slouching over and retching in the street.

* * *

Belle stood in her doorway for a long moment breathing in the phantom scent of Aiden’s cologne. At first she’d thought it was her imagination, but the scent is mixed with the stale smell of cigarettes, the tang of whiskey and something else that is quintessentially Rabbit Hole.

Of course, that could just be her, and Belle takes a tentative sniff of herself just to make sure.

Because maybe Aiden did come. Maybe he snuck his way up her stairs only to lose his nerve, or change his mind. Belle couldn’t blame him if that’s the case. She’d been the one to end things after all. She’d been rather forceful when she moved out. It’s not out of the realm of possibility that he thinks she doesn’t want him anymore.

But oh how she does.

It seems a little pathetic, running out into the street in your pajamas in the dead of night because your ex boyfriend might have possibly stopped by and you only realize this because your olfactory sense is somehow keenly aware of his scent.

Belle deliberates for a half second before grabbing her cardigan off the back of the sofa and stuffing her feet into the rain boots she keeps by the front door.

It can’t hurt anything to just run down the stairs and take a glance down the street. At least that’s what she tells herself. If Aiden is down there, maybe they’ll finally have a chance to talk. And if he’s not, well it’s that dead time of night that comes between the hours of very late and very early and there will be no one on the street to witness her shame.

She turns the corner from her apartment and immediately spots a dark shape slumped on the sidewalk half a block away.

Approaching slowly she sees that it is in fact Aiden. She tamps down the feeling of triumph that ricochets through her when she notices what a mess he looks.

Her carefully put together boyfriend would never have allowed himself to be seen in his current state, sprawled out against the concrete, gold tipped cane discarded a few feet from him. His tie is crooked and his hair looks as though he’s run his fingers through it repeatedly. He’s also currently glancing around at the ground around him like a lost puppy.

“Aiden? What are you doing?”

He looks up at her and Belle is immediately keenly aware of how ridiculous she must look in her rain boots and pajamas. She pulls the cardigan more protectively around her. But Aiden just smiles like she’s the most wonderful thing he’s seen all evening.

He is then promptly sick.

Belle rushes forward, instantly glad of her rain boots as she edges around the puddle of sick to rub Aiden’s back.

“Are you alright? Aiden, what are you doing here?”

Aiden wipes his mouth against the arm of his suit jacket, and he’ll probably regret that later, before glancing up at her with watery eyes.

“Came to see you,” he slurs at her. “I was worried.”

“Worried?” Belle asks, confused. “Why were you worried about me? And what are you doing out here on the street?”

Aiden just stares at her for a moment, as thought it’s taking him a moment to process the words coming out of her mouth.

“You left with that fucker Nottingham!” He finally says, vehemently. “Everyone knows that son of a bitch is a letch. I couldnae leave you alone with him.”

His brogue is getting so strong that he’s nigh incomprehensible and it takes Belle a second to understand what he’s said. She’s never actually seen Aiden drunk before. He’s always been a study in moderation. Even when he did knock back a few glasses of scotch, they’d hardly had an effect on him. How much must he have imbibed tonight?

“Wait, are you saying you were jealous?”

Aiden looks affronted at that.

“Absolutely bloody not! I was just preserving your…virtue!”

Belle rolls her eyes. “Well you needn’t have bothered.”

Aiden starts casting an eye around as though looking for the man in question.

“Where is he then? Done already? Bastard doesn’t have much stamina.”

Belle snatches her hand away from his back and has to restrain herself from slapping him. Does he honestly think she’d sink low enough to go home with Keith? But then, isn’t that exactly what she’d wanted him to think? She’d dangled Keith in front of him tonight hoping to get a reaction. But this wasn’t exactly the reaction she’d had in mind.

Sighing, she retrieves his cane and wraps one of his hands around the gold handle before taking his other hand in hers. She tries not to notice how good his big warm hand feels around hers.

“What are you doing?” He asks confusedly.

“Well I can’t very well leave you out in the street all night can I?”

He’s still staring at her blankly so she adds, “You’re a drunk fucking mess, Aiden. Now do you want to come up and sleep it off on my couch or do you want me to leave you here on the curb for garbage collection?”

With a grunt of assent, Aiden braces himself against the cane and allows her to tug him up into standing. He’s unsteady on his feet and stumbles into her a bit before catching himself. She’s lucky he’s so slight. A larger man would have sent them both falling back into the gutter.

Wrapping his free arm around her shoulders, Aiden wrinkles his brow.

“Did you just compare me to garbage?”

Belle just shrugs as they start back toward her apartment.

“Well that’s rich for someone who went home with Keith Fucking Nottingham.”  

Belle pinches him hard in the side for that one.

“Ouch! What the fucking hell, Belle?”

Belle lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a groan and a scream.

“Why do you always have to be such an insufferable arse?’

Aiden backs away from her a step and lets loose an elaborate hand flourish, that in his present state almost knocks him on his ass.

“It’s just who I am, dearie!”

Belle shakes her head sadly. “It’s not though. You can put on the mask, but I know the real you. I’ve seen the man underneath all the bullshit, and frankly I miss him.”

Aiden seems to sober some at that confession, his brown eyes huge in his thin face.

“You were the only one who ever tried.” He shakes his head, leaning heavily on his cane and suddenly seeming decades older. “I never deserved you.”

“Oh Aiden, love isn’t about what you deserve.” Belle reaches out to clasp his free hand in hers. “Love is about seeing the bad parts in someone, and loving them anyway. It’s about finding the person who makes you want to be the best version of yourself. I’m sorry I couldn’t be that person for you.”

Aiden looks stricken at her words.

“You do make me want to be the best version of myself. I just was never sure who that was anymore.”

Belle can feel the prick of unshed tears behind her eyes, and turns away before he can see them fall.

“Come on. Let’s get you up to bed.” She says, tugging at his hand.

They somehow manage to stumble up the stairs to the Library apartment together. Aiden’s drunkenness has faded into a general malaise, and he sits on the couch while Belle finds him some pillows and blankets to make up a bed.

When she comes back to the living room, he’s removed his rumpled suit jacket and discarded it on the floor. He’s worrying over the buttons of his shirt, but his fingers keep slipping away before he can get the button through the hole.

“Here, let me,” she says, kneeling on the ground before him and undoing the row of buttons down his chest. It’s so familiar it makes her heart ache. She’s so close the scent of his cologne seems to envelop her. Granted it’s tempered by the stench of whiskey that’s coming off of him in waves. But that’s not quite enough to completely mask the warm spicy scent that is so quintessentially Aiden Gold.

She breathes in shakily as her fingers fumble over the final buttons. Then she removes his cufflinks and he’s pushing the shirt off to join his jacket on the floor.

He’s lost weight, even more wiry than she remembers. He’s never been good about remembering mundane things like eating regular meals. Without her there to remind him, he probably doesn’t eat nearly enough.

Before she can stop herself, Belle runs a hand down his smooth chest, stopping at his belt buckle. Gold is barely breathing beneath her hand, and she can feel his eyes on her.

She’s just getting him ready for bed, she tells herself, as she pulls the expensive leather strap from the buckle and eases his belt off. She refuses to look at him as she undoes the button and flies on his trousers.

Aiden lets out a long low breath, “Keith wasn’t enough for one night?”

And just like that he’s ruined the moment. Belle lets her hands drop to her lap. He’s distracting her on purpose, she knows. He’s nervous and doesn’t know what to say, so he says the wrong thing. It’s always been his modus operandi. It’s part of the reason he’s her ex boyfriend and not her current boyfriend. But Belle can’t help but feel cheap at his words.

“I’m not gonna fuck you, Aiden.” She says calmly.

“For one thing you just puked. For another, I’m not in the habit of jumping men when they’re blackout drunk and probably won’t remember any of this in the morning, speaking of which, I hardly think you’re in any condition to participate.” She finally looks him in the eye, letting him see her unshed tears. “And finally, I didn’t go home with Keith. I left him outside the bar, not that it’s any of your business what I do and with whom.”

Aiden couldn’t have looked more stunned if she’d slapped him.

“I’m sorry.”

Belle nods at his apology, and stands up.

“I forgive you. You’re not quite yourself. I’m going to get you some water.”

She heads into the kitchen and finally lets the tears fall.

Why is this so hard? She still loves him. She never stopped loving him. She only left because she was so tired of always being the strong one in the relationship. It was a struggle every day with him, and she couldn’t stand the persona he put on in his dealings with the rest of the town, the way he treated them. With her he was sweet, kind, gentle. But it was more than just that. She loved the wicked parts of him too. She loved his sense of humor, his intelligence.

He was just so afraid of letting someone love him. At every turn he expected her to leave, so she finally had. He’d told her once that everyone he’d ever loved had left him. And here she had continued the trend. Part of her had hoped he would fight for her.

Wiping at the tears furiously, she retrieves a glass and fills it with water as well as a bottle of aspirin for the hangover he’s sure to have in the morning.

When Belle returns to the living room, Aiden has managed to shed his trousers and is curled up on the couch in his boxers. Placing the water and aspirin on the side table, she pulls one of the blankets up over him.

He mumbles something under his breath before grabbing her hand.

“I miss you too,” he slurs sleepily.

They still have a lot to talk about, but for now she enjoys knowing that he’s safely ensconced in her apartment. Belle runs a hand through his long graying brown hair with a smile.

She hasn’t felt whole in a while. But just having him here makes her feel a little less like half of something else. 


End file.
